


September Afternoon

by lundqvist



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Short One Shot, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 18:25:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4635636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lundqvist/pseuds/lundqvist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Worick (Wallace) and Nicolas studying on an unusually sunny afternoon<br/>(based loosely on what happened in ch 13)</p>
            </blockquote>





	September Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written fanfic since sixth grade but U see. i bought a volume of gangsta and it had the chapter w/ the two of them as children and it made me feel some type of way

Wallace let the door close slowly behind him, books in one hand and a tray with drinks in the other. He could’ve rung for a maid, but he didn’t want to raise too much attention. If a talkative maid found out that Wallace tutoring his bodyguard, a beating from Master Arcangelo would surely ensue. Then again, beatings occurred no matter what Wallace did. With a sigh, he walked over to the table where Nicolas sat. With one look at the lanky juvenile perched on the ornate chair, Wallace pushed his familial issues to the corner of his mind and smiled. To be honest, it was hard not to smile everytime he saw Nicolas.

Nic was a sight to behold. Scrawny, grimy, and short, he sat stiffly in a chair as tall as himself. He was dressed in dirty, secondhand clothing a few sizes too big, and he looked completely out of place in the enormous and immaculate room. 

_Like a stray puppy in a house for the first time_ , Wallace thought. 

At the sight of Wallace, Nicolas perked up and looked around, eyeing the room instinctively. After confirming that there was nothing (and no one) to hurt him, Nicolas nodded to himself and relaxed. Again, Wallace couldn’t help but imagine his companion as a stray animal. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused on the task ahead of him: teaching Nic.

“Have you been studying, Nic?” Wallace asked with a smile. Nic grumbled and looked out the window, avoiding eye contact. Laughing, Wallace laid the books on the table. Nic glanced at them for a millisecond and went back to looking out the window.

“You’re going to continue practicing the written alphabet today,” Wallace continued cheerfully. He slid a battered notebook towards Nic, who turned around and meekly opened it. Nic took out the pen Wallace had given him yesterday: a sleek, black fountain pen. Wallace’s favorite pen. It looked strange and foreign in Nic’s roughed up hands, but Wallace found the juxtaposition of the two amusing.

Nic took one last look at Wallace, as if to confirm that he was still there, and began to scribble the alphabet on a blank page. Wallace took a sip of his tea, offering the other cup to Nic. After a subtle shake of the head, Nic went back to his scribbling. Wallace shrugged.

 _Sometimes, it feels like I’m talking to something distinct. Like an animal or a machine_ , Wallace thought, staring at the adolescent in front of him. _Something that isn't human._

Wallace glanced briefly at Nic's tags.

_But that can't be the case. Regardless of how I feel, Nic's a human._

Crossing his arms, Wallace glanced out the window. The weather was unexpectedly pleasant for a September afternoon: while the sun shone and warmed him, there was a perpetual light breeze that prevented him from overheating. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The world seemed to blur into itself. 

“I wish this could last forever,” he mumbled. 

He glanced at Nicolas, absorbed in his scribbling. Wallace stared at Nic’s hands: to his surprise, underneath the cuts and bruises was smooth, snow white skin. As he glanced up, observing the paleness of Nic’s skin, he noticed a sizable bruise peeking out of Nic’s sleeve. 

_Ah_ , Wallace thought. _It happens to Nicolas, too._

Wallace tugged the ends of his own sleeves, hiding the proof of his own failures.

He thought of what awaited him after his lesson with Nic. He thought of the future, the past, the present. He knew better, but he couldn't help but wish for more. He rested his chin in the crook of his elbow, looking at Nic out of the corner of his eyes. The light from the window had settled on him, engulfing him in a warm embrace. 

_Like an angel..._

Wallace looked away. 

There was no way this could last forever, anyway.


End file.
